


Ten Rings

by gala_apples



Category: Skins (UK)
Genre: Angst, Infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-11
Updated: 2011-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-27 04:38:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twenty years, and ten rings Sid's gotten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Rings

Sid: Age 5  
Sid has a quarter, and there is an entire row of candy machines in front of him. Normally dad tells him what to get, but he's at the counter paying for the pizza, and he gave Sid a quarter so he'd stop nagging him. Sid is much happier with his current difficult decision than he is when dad yells at him.

He looks at the peanuts, the sunflower seeds, the slim jims, the jube jubes. They all look really yummy. But best, there's a machine with big plastic bubbles with toys inside. He puts his quarter in and twists the knob. He holds his breath as the bubble rolls down the chute into his hand. Inside is a ring. As he's cracking the bubble open, a black haired boy comes up to him.

"Can I have it?" the boy asks.

Sid looks at the ring. He likes it. It's bright green, and it's got a big circle on the top that's got shiny sticker paper on it. He wants to keep it. But the boy looks like he really wants it, and it would be mean not to share. His teacher is always telling him that he needs to share if he wants to have friends.

He holds the ring out, and the boy takes it. "Thanks. I'm Tony. Want to come over and play ninjas?"

Sid nods his head, and Tony smiles. Sid watches as Tony goes over to the counter and tugs on his dad's leg. It's too far away to hear what he says, but he points at Sid, and then Tony's dad turns to his dad, and the next thing he knows Sid's being strapped into a car seat. Tony laughs when he says it's supposed to be for his little sister. Sid doesn't say anything, it's not his fault he's littler than Tony.

 

Sid: Age 8  
It's all because of Clarissa Singer that Tony's looking at him like this. Sid hates the way Tony's face changes sometimes, like he's just watched someone step in dog poo. Like something's disgusting and funny at the same time. He grins but his eyebrows wrinkle, and it makes Sid look away.

Stupid Clarissa, and her group of stupid friends. Each week Clarissa has a fight with one of her friends, and because she's the leader everyone listens to her and no one talks to the person that Clarissa's mad at. Sid always feels sorry for the one that no one likes, because girls are mean. When Sid's mates get mad, they just tackle each other to the ground, punch and wrestle and dangle great big spit loogies out of their mouths to freak each other out. It's a lot better than making each other cry. Even if Sid sometimes cries at home, after, because his purple eyes hurt.

The scariest thing was the one time Doreen Adams ran out of class to cry, only Sid didn't know that because he was coming back from the loo, and she stopped in front of him and _hugged_ him, and _cried_ on him. So now Sid watches Clarissa all the time, so he can get out of the way of any member of her group.

It's all Clarissa's fault, because she'd started this new thing. Now instead of just having friends, she has a _best friend_. They all have these heart necklaces that break in two, and they all share them. And whichever one Clarissa is wearing, everyone else wants to wear. And Sid thinks they're dumb, because it just makes everyone all upset because everyone wants to be her best friend, and no one is.

Sid's different though. He's got a best friend, a real one. And necklaces are for girls, but his dad wears a ring, so when he sees two silver rings, (one that says best, the other saying friends) at the supermarket, he uses his allowance to get them. Because he wants Tony to know.

Only Tony's giving him that look. Which Sid actually wants back once Tony starts laughing and calling him a girl. The look is better than being out-loud laughed at.

 

Sid: Age 11  
It's the first day of secondary school, and Sid is not happy with his chosen look. Everybody knows your first day you look like the person you want to be, and if you model it well enough, and enough people gravitate towards you, you get to be in that group for the next

It's too much pressure, Sid thinks. He's eleven, he's got five years in this school before he goes to college to take his sixth form, if his parents even decide to send him somewhere else for those last two years. Five or seven years of either having a big group of mates, or none at all, based on how cool he looks.

He's spent the entire summer trying to force his body to grow into his mental image. It's pretty good, considering his lack of options, which is all his buggered up eyes needing glasses fault. Sid's bought tight black jeans and shirts a size too small with band logos on them. He's even forced himself to listen to the bands and wikipedia their life stories, so he knows what the fuck he's talking about if someone asks him. His hair is just long enough to comb into his eyes, his converse sneakers have checkered laces strung through them.

Tony comes over while his dad is shouting at him to come downstairs and eat breakfast and stop being a lazy wanker. Sid knows he dad thinks he's still lying in bed, and there's no reason to tell him different. It's obvious from first glance that Tony's decided to be a preppy kid. It's not surprising at all, preppy garners friends like jocks do, without the pain of actual athletics, and he gets to get good grades without being a nerd. It fits Tony, and Sid already knows Tony's going to get a crowd of people by the end of the day.

Which poses a problem, because Sid has no idea how well he'll pull his own role off. Not to mention that his doesn't exactly fit with Tony's.

"Emo kid, huh?" Tony's smirking, and it fits perfectly with his button down shirt. "The hair, the glasses, I guess you had to. If you start cutting, we're done being mates. I'm serious."

Sid can't picture himself doing it, doesn't think it's going to be a problem.

"Could be worse. You need jewellery though. A ton of bracelets, or fingerless gloves. Something."

Sid slips a silver ring of his father's onto his thumb, and tells himself emos and preps can be friends.

 

Sid: Age 14  
A rave. What the fuck, he is going to a rave. Sid isn't the kind of person that goes to raves, he's the kind of person that sits in people's basements and eats chips while watching shitty eighties horror movies.

It's not like he's even carefully traveling the party continuum by going to a house party. He's fourteen, so it's alright that he's never gone to a house party, never been drunk outside his own attic bedroom with Michelle and Tony and Maxxie. He doesn't feel too inexperienced, too lame about it . It's just messed up to go from hanging out to massive party with only strangers that will mostly be on drugs.

At least at a house party, he wouldn't have to dress any differently. His emo look has mostly faded, he's kept the longish hair and the black hoodies with holes to hook his thumbs through. But shirts with cartoon characters or rude slogans are far more him than My Chemical Romance shirts.

Raves though. He's in the mall, looking for clothes that he can wear to make other people impressed. Michelle wants him to wear lime green cargo pants, and 'if he has to wear a hat, it can be this one' which is a purple and pink striped one. Somehow going to a rave means dressing like a girl.

Hours later the four of them are on a bus, riding over to the industrial area. Tony is texting to someone named Chris, who apparently has good quality E. Sid wasn't really expecting to try it the first night out, but Michelle and Maxxie seem into the idea, and he won't be the only one that says no. So he stays quiet, just plays with the multicoloured jelly strings on his wrist and fingers. He doesn't feel as ridiculous now, Maxxie and Tony are wearing them too.

 

Sid: Age 15  
It's funny, the things that seem entertaining when one is drunk off their face. Maxxie and his friend Anwar don't seem to find the statement enlightening, but it's the best Sid is going to do at philosophy right now. And he's got proof of statement too, because Anwar is using two spoons to drum a beat on his leg, and Maxxie is nodding his head to a song playing in his head. And Sid? The way his pinky is turning purple from the elastic wrapped around it's base seems fascinating.

Maxxie stands up, barely wobbling. It's not until he's across the room, all in another bloke's personal space that Sid realises he'd been summoned. He's sort of jealous of that. Not that blokes are beckoning him, just that Maxxie gets people that make the first move. Sid's never had someone make the first move for him.

In fact, any time he makes the first move, he either gets laughed at, or told off, or a combination of both. Which is fine with random girls. Sid's not a player, he doesn't really expect to get laid, he just figures he has to keep trying.

The problem is, lately he hasn't been wanting random girls. Lately he's been feeling relieved when they laugh at him. _Lately_ he's been looking at Tony and thinking 'yes, that's it'. Sid's gone mad, that's the only answer. He doesn't even mind that he's gone crazy, because it's only in his head. As long as he doesn't say anything, or do anything, it's fine to be mental.

So that's the actual problem. He's drunk, and Sid is no stranger to waking up the next morning hearing stories about the stupid things he's said or done the night before. His solution is two-parts, both simple. He's not going to blow off a party, he's just going to stay around other people, people who are not devastatingly sexy, people he doesn't want to drag into bed with him. And when he does see Tony, every time he thinks a bad thought he'll snap the elastic hard to remind himself to stop.

Avoidance and operant conditioning. Maybe he'd do better in sociology than philosophy.

 

Sid: Age 17  
Sid thinks about his friends, already starting to scatter. Cass is in New York, Anwar and Maxxie are in London. Jal and Michelle and Tony, they're all that's left. And even that's only for the summer, before Michelle and Tony leave as well. It sucks that he'll be left with Jal, when she's the one he has least in common with.

Except for falling in love with a best friend, of course. But they won't talk about that, because it'll hurt. It would hurt them to talk about Chris, gone way too fucking soon. And it'll hurt Sid to talk about just how much he wants Tony, and Jal's the sympathetic type, so it will bother her too.

But for now, Sid's not going to think about being alone. For now Sid's going to enjoy these last days of spending every moment with the three of them, music and driving around and parties. Every last moment is going to be spent drunk or rolling or high, because soon enough he won't have friends to do it with, and who the fuck wants to roll on E alone?

Currently, he's picked stoned. It makes the most sense; he and Tony and Michelle are driving around in his dad's car -he still can't think of it as his own- which is something nobody that's not an idiot would do rolling or smashed. Tony pulls into a fast food restaurant, and by the time their food is handed to them in a brown paper bag, Sid can't even remember what he ordered.

He decides to claim the onion rings. Anyone walking by would know stoned people ordered this food, they've probably spent thirty pounds on food. But he doesn't want the sandwich, or even the triple burger. He just wants the spicy-sweet crispy rings.

Halfway through the packet, Sid leaves for a leak. He comes back to the most atrocious of acts; Tony is eating the last of them. What Sid does next is either stupidity or stonedness. It's sure as hell nothing a sane person would do, anyway. He leans across the table and before Tony has a chance to react jams his tongue in his mouth. He can still taste the onions.

"Sid? Sid!" He can hear Michelle shouting at him, but it's only when he feels Tony's hands pressing firmly on his chest that he pulls away.

"Sorry. It's just, I claimed them. I, Sorry."

 

Sid: Age 18  
Sid believes, tentatively. He's sure Tony loves him. But then, Michelle was probably sure too, and look what happened.

He asked Tony once, how he could be sure that he loved him, that it wasn't like the cruelty in college. Tony just said he wasn't in college anymore. It wasn't a detailed answer, but it was true enough. Everyone was different now, Sketch was in jail and Maxxie found producing more satisfying than dancing and Jal was back up on some of her brother's tracks. And Sid didn't have to pretend to be happy dating Michelle. So Sid accepted Tony's answer, and continued their relationship.

It was an easy decision to move out to Cardiff, find a minuscule flat near the university. It's horribly expensive compared to his lovely job in the food industry, but he can see Tony almost every day. And seeing inevitably means shagging. It doesn't matter if he's in Tony's dorm, or if they're in his bedroom, or the elevator, or the car. If they're together for more than three minutes, there will be getting off.

He knows Tony's partial to those elevator moments, to ducking into one of the million green little courtyards at the university that no one ever bothers to go into. Tony likes the idea of getting caught, of being able to show off. It's been different since college, no one is watching him like he's the most important thing now. A handjob against a tree gives him that moment back. Sid gets it, and he's fine with it. His preference are the times they have at his flat, where they have time to fall asleep, and wake up and fuck again before he's got to run to work.

Aside from the part where a morning blowjob is just awesome, shagging at home has other perks. Sid likes being able to decide if he wants to use blueberry or cherry lube, because he's got a drawer full of supplies. Sid likes smoking up with Tony and fucking over the back of the couch while Sponge Bob or some other shitty wonderful cartoon is on.

Most of all, he likes the variety that having a handful of sex toys adds. There's just something about being fucked by Tony while he knows Tony's wearing beads that makes him come a hundred times harder. Or getting ridden for double the time because he's wearing a cock ring and no matter how hard Tony squeezes around him, the leather is tighter and won't let him come.

So there's sex, and there's love, and Sid believes he's got both. Because the alternative is being the same naive follower he used to be, and Sid wants to believe he too has moved on from college.

 

Sid: Age 22  
It is entirely, one hundred percent fucked up to be walking in a grocery store and get a flash out of the corner of his eye, and look around for what it is, and finally realise it's his hand resting on the red plastic push bar of the grocery cart. Not his entire hand, specifically his ring finger. Maybe if the gold band didn't catch the light so often it wouldn't fuck with him the way it does. But Sid's ring is made of the shiniest gold ever, and about ten times a day it catches the light at the right angle and completely distracts him from what he's doing.

It just doesn't seem real. Tony isn't the marriage type. Hell, Sid's not the marriage type. Or at least he shouldn't be. Marriage is something for serious, middle age people, not fuck ups in their twenties who still like to get smashed and eat mushrooms and swallow E.

But there's no question about it. He's got the ring to prove it. He's got Tony waking up far to early every morning and blaring his music loud enough to wake the neighbours, never mind his innocently sleeping bo-husband. It still seems fucked up that he's a _husband_ , not a boyfriend. And he's got Christmas in a month, and Sid's already avoided about five conversations with his mother about who's having dinner where. He might be married, but he doesn't have to be bloody domestic.

 

Sid: Age 23  
The glass nearly cracks as it slams back onto the bartop. He doesn't do it on purpose, it's not like he's full of angst aching to come out in the form of a shattered stein and beer all over a table. Or he _is_ , but he won't take it out on a poor bartender. He saves his occasional throwing shit tantrums for a specially marked cupboard of old dishes at home. In this case it's just that the alcohol gets at his depth perception.

There's a football game playing in the tv hanging in the corner, and Sid supposes he should be watching. That's what blokes in pubs do, isn't it? But he's not interested in sports, never has been. Nor does he want to talk to anyone around him, or challenge someone to a game of pool.

All he wants is to be surrounded by people, let their talk swarm over him, take him under. He hates drinking alone; it shows him how different his life has become since his first time with Tony and Maxxie and a stolen bottle of vodka. There are about a hundred times he could have made different choices which could have led to not being a pathetic wanker, but it's really quite fitting that he didn't. Sid Jenkins: destined to be a failure.

He feels a hand on his shoulder, but doesn't look up. Chances are it's a hooker, and even if it isn't, he doesn't want to do anything but chug beer after shitty beer.

"I like your tattoo." Sid glances at his ring finger, the tiny circle of X's on it. "What's it mean?"

"Once cruel, always cruel." He tunes out the rest of her horrid come on. Even if he was interested in sex, it wouldn't work. He doesn't want to go home with her and have a hook up personalised with tsotchkes and floral prints, he doesn't want to fuck in his car, and he doesn't have the money for a hotel. And he sure as fuck doesn't want to bring her home. No one's been in the flat since Tony left him, and he's not having the first guest be a hook up.

 

Sid: Age 25  
"Did you keep it?" Tony asks. Sid knows that college Tony wouldn't have needed to ask the question, college Sid would have forgiven anything.

"Yeah."

"You ever feel like still wearing it?"

Sid thinks of how it would look, a band of light curled around the black of a bitter tattoo. "Dunno if we're still those guys."

"We could try again, though."

All Sid can think is how fucking typical Tony this is. It's exactly what happened to Michelle; Tony fucked around and then decided he wanted his committed relationship back. At least time there's no Josh for Tony to fuck around with. Maybe it's pathetic of him to not have gotten over it. But it makes this easier, there are less obstacles. The only one left is the biggest one, that neither he nor Tony can change.

"We could."

"That's not a yes."

"It's not a no either."  



End file.
